


Hold Your Breath

by drandmrsmclaughlin



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Breathplay, D/s, Dom!Rhett, M/M, Sub!Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drandmrsmclaughlin/pseuds/drandmrsmclaughlin
Summary: The boys engage in a little stress management.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing is real, none of this actually happened, life is an illusion.
> 
> I posted this on tumblr a few days ago, so I'm just putting it here because like having stuff organized. I wrote this because I am and always will be obsessed with [this clip](http://drandmrsmclaughlin.tumblr.com/post/152730179438/mythical-shippings-probably-the-longest-ive).

“ _Dang_ it!”

Rhett looked up from his computer to see Link stumbling through the doorway of their office, arms piled high with his laptop, several books, a cup full of pens, and an assortment of action figures. A bottle lay at his feet, spilling water onto the hardwood.

“Oh, hey--” Rhett said, moving to help with the mess.

“I got it,” Link said without looking up, tossing his things onto a chair and reaching for a box of tissues on the coffee table.

“Let me get some towels, man,” Rhett said, standing. He didn’t get two steps forward before Link cast him an irritable look.

“I _got_ it,” he snapped, tearing tissues from the box and laying them over the puddle.

“Whoa, okay, you got it,” Rhett said, throwing up his hands in surrender and taking a step back. He watched as Link wasted most of a box of tissues mopping up the water, muttering indistinctly to himself all the while. Finally finished, he stood up, his mouth set in a tense line.

“Sorry,” he sighed, brow furrowed. “That kind of day.”

“S'ok,” Rhett said softly, taking a few steps toward him to better evaluate Link’s body language. The line of worry between his brows, the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his hands fidgeted, rhythmically digging his nails into his palms. “Everyone gone for the night?”

Link shook his head, “Stevie’s still here. Morgan too, I think.”

“Okay,” Rhett said, “Lock the door.”

Link’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He only hesitated for a beat before he turned, striding to the door and pushing it closed quietly, sliding the deadbolt into place.

Rhett settled himself on the couch, leaning back against the arm and stretching his legs out. “Shoes off,” he said, before Link could walk back over to him. Link obeyed immediately, and Rhett added, “Shirt too.”

Barefoot and shirtless, arms drawn in at his sides, Link looked deceptively small. He could shrink himself so effectively when he was in a mood like this; Rhett didn’t like it. Link was supposed to be larger than life, all long, flailing limbs and open, easily read expressions. This tight, tense man standing before him was not the Link Neal he knew.

“C'mon,” Rhett said, gesturing between his legs.

Link crossed the room and crawled onto the couch, settling back against Rhett’s chest. His whole body was tense, hands resting like claws on Rhett’s knees when Rhett bent them up to bracket him in.

Rhett brought his hand up to Link’s throat, gently tipping his chin back and urging him to lean back, to let his head fall against Rhett’s shoulder.

“Hit me if you need to stop,” he murmured against Link’s temple, thumb stroking over his racing pulse. Link nodded, closing his eyes. “Deep breath, now.”

He felt the air entering Link’s throat under his hand, waited until he’d reached the apex, then tightened his fingers ever so slightly.

The breath out was hardly laboured, with only a little pressure on his throat, but Rhett could feel Link fighting to empty his lungs fully. Already, Link’s shoulders were starting to relax, his body sinking more fully against Rhett’s.

“That’s good, Link,” Rhett said softly, using his free hand to stroke a soothing rhythm up and down Link’s thigh. “Breathe in again for me.”

Link did as he was told, pulling in a long, slow breath, his head turning a little so his lips almost brushed Rhett’s jaw. Rhett pressed a little harder against his throat, restricting the airflow a little more.

“And out,” Rhett said. Link’s tongue flicked out to wet his dry lips as he fought against the pressure, shaking slightly as he exhaled.

They fell into a rhythm then, with Rhett directing every breath, easing his hand off for a second or two whenever Link’s fingers tightened on his thigh. Sometimes Rhett would pause a few beats between commands and Link would hold his breath, obedient, until Rhett gave him permission to release it.

Eventually, the gentle rise and fall of Link’s body against his stirred a reaction in Rhett, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about him getting off; it wasn’t about him at all, really. All that mattered was the tension seeping out of Link’s shoulders, the worry lines disappearing from his forehead. This was just for Link.

“Good, you’re doing so good,” Rhett whispered, watching Link’s lashes flutter as he grew a little faint from the lack of oxygen. This was scary the first time – and the second, and the third – until Rhett did enough research and familiarized himself enough with Link’s body to know when to stop and when to press on. There usually came a point where it was all on Rhett to make that decision, where Link was too lightheaded and out of it to know where the line was. Rhett found it simultaneously thrilling and terrifying to have that kind of power placed in his hands.

“I think that’s enough for today, brother,” Rhett said, turning his head to brush his lips softly against Link’s hair. He slowly eased his hand off Link’s throat, feeling him suck in a long, deep breath as soon as the pressure let up.

Link’s body had gone completely slack, all the tension siphoned away by the routine of it all, by how thoroughly he relinquished control to Rhett. Some days it took more than this to get Link to let go; it took them quite a while to figure out what worked and when, which days required more than just a quick session on the couch. It was all about assessing Link’s body language, and Rhett was reaching expert status in that area.

It was a minute or so before Link could speak, and when he did, his voice was hoarse. “Thanks, Rhett.”

“Anytime, bo.”

Wrapping his arms around Link’s waist, Rhett decided their work could wait for an hour or so. He smiled against Link’s temple, and felt the precise moment that Link drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I also exist [on tumblr](http://drandmrsmclaughlin.tumblr.com/). Sometimes I ramble into the ether about subjects similar to this fic. You should not take me too seriously. But you should come say hi and give me an outlet for my rhink-related emotions!


End file.
